Airplanes are leaving from the airport
I am back from the ICFA in Orlando. On the whole, I had a very good time—the reading went well, I met some wonderful people, and I have copies of Guy Gavriel Kay's Beyond This Dark House (2003) and Peter S. Beagle's We Never Talk About My Brother (2009), among other books. I heard papers on the science fiction poetry of Phyllis Gotlieb, the Paris Morgue, present-day Elizabethan theater; I should have written papers on The Last Unicorn and A Tale of Time City. After dark one night, Eric and I played basketball on the hotel's court, lit up arc-white. I forgot to bring my bathing suit again.
I love flying in and out of Boston. The plane wheels in over the water, last night as dark as fishskin and pleated in swells beneath a pure red after-sunset, the whole bar of the horizon cinnabar under ink-spreads of cloud; the channel buoys held on and off like fireflies, green, red, flickering sea-paths back and forth between the islands, whitewater flecks out of the dusk. There were thunderheads building when we took off from Orlando. I think we confuse in-flight snacks and seatbelt signs with domestication of sky and sea, so that clouds become less relevant than however many channels you can watch from the screens on the back of each seat, the sun in the stratosphere is an interference. Nothing is really tame. We just like to think so; and are surprised when people drown.
I love flying in and out of Boston. The plane wheels in over the water, last night as dark as fishskin and pleated in swells beneath a pure red after-sunset, the whole bar of the horizon cinnabar under ink-spreads of cloud; the channel buoys held on and off like fireflies, green, red, flickering sea-paths back and forth between the islands, whitewater flecks out of the dusk. There were thunderheads building when we took off from Orlando. I think we confuse in-flight snacks and seatbelt signs with domestication of sky and sea, so that clouds become less relevant than however many channels you can watch from the screens on the back of each seat, the sun in the stratosphere is an interference. Nothing is really tame. We just like to think so; and are surprised when people drown.

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Nothing is really tame. We just like to think so; and are surprised when people drown.
Yes.
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Having done a tour or two as an archaeologist on public and/or open-to-the-tourists property... I really wouldn't want to think about how much more difficult it would've been if we'd had to discourage them from drowning themselves, rather than just explaining what we were doing without taking away too much time from doing it, plus the odd bit of stopping them falling into the excavations.
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T.S. Eliot knew what he was talking about.
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I'm glad you had a good time. And it's cold here, anyway. Not a good season for visiting.
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With the exception of the poem-cycle "The Unicorn Tapestries" (1981), the oldest story in We Never Talk About My Brother dates back to 2007; really new material. And it is a really excellent collection. You in particular will appreciate the lead story, "Uncle Chaim and Aunt Rifke and the Angel," although the bad poetry duel in "Spook" is also worth taking note of, brain damage notwithstanding.
And it's cold here, anyway. Not a good season for visiting.
I'm still sorry. I miss you. I hope yours was a good birthday.
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I once flew over a thunderstorm, with fan-vaulted lightning below us, an electric Chartres.
And now they go about, urging you to shut your little plastic blind.
Nine
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We flew through one in Colorado once; we might even have been landing in it. I just remember how lightning looks from inside the clouds, like something living. It was beautiful.
Needed: an expert on Etruscan mythology, for the moon of Orcus
S/1 90482 (2005) needs your help
Thought it might pique your interest...or if you know someone else who would be keen, could you please let them know?
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Oh, neat. I hardly consider myself an expert on Etruscan mythology, but I suggested Vanth and Tuchulcha. Thanks!
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...will be fun to see what Mike decides...
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Thank you. I like it.
It was the APOD image that went up last night that has made the number of comments explode, though. 200+, wow!
I hadn't checked back today! Damn.
...will be fun to see what Mike decides...
I could live with Thesan. The universe needs more Etruscan names.
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The universe needs more Etruscan names.
Definitely. Thank goodness the outer solar system is more mythologically diverse than it used to be...
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Excellent. I assumed that was a courtesy, not a rule; I am pleased to discover otherwise.
Thank goodness the outer solar system is more mythologically diverse than it used to be...
If there are not already objects named Nergal, Ereškigal, Namtar, there totally should be.
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If there are not already objects named Nergal, Ereškigal, Namtar, there totally should be.
Not yet. Nergal is a little too closely associated with Mars, but the other two would be fine.
Though the trans-Neptunian objects have been going with Inuit (Sedna), Hawaiian (Haumea, Namaka, Hi'iaka), Rapa Nui (Makemake), Native American (Quaoar, Teharonhiawako) and Vedic (Varuna) mythologies in the last wee while. Not doing too bad ;)
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Thanks!
Nergal is a little too closely associated with Mars, but the other two would be fine.
Nergal has not got much to do with Mars past the planet: he is war and pestilence, the destroying sun of high summer, a consort of Ereškigal and therefore president in some of his own right over the underworld; I wouldn't mind him as the father of my foundation myth, but I think the Romans would have been a little weirded out.
. . . or do you mean that since he is associated with the planet, he already missed out on eponymy because Phobos and Deimos were all the moons Mars got? In which case, never mind.
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*laughs*
Now, the real naming issue will start if anyone finds something bigger than Eris. Does it have to be Greco-Roman deities again at that point? Should be fun...
You might also be interested in the conversation here on Solar System naming from a Southern Hemisphere perspective.
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Because all the other dwarf planets are? The more mythologies, the better. (Assuming, obviously, someone knows what they're doing with more mythologies. Greco-Roman, even Etruscan is safe: if you botch the associations completely, the worst that happens is classicists laugh at you for years. Screw up Inuit or Vedic, people will care.)
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*is happy*